


Aspen

by Ray_Writes



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Loss of Virginity, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 15:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17267024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Writes/pseuds/Ray_Writes
Summary: "I mean, don't you remember when we went to Aspen and you wanted to open a ski lodge?""The only thing that I remember from Aspen was your father being furious we shared a room with one bed."Laurel Lance & Oliver Queen, "Vendetta" (1x08)





	Aspen

**Author's Note:**

> While working on one of my season 1 AUs I came across this little exchange during the double date scene between Oliver, Laurel, Tommy, and Helena and just couldn't resist filing it away to write something for later. That something ended up being New Years smut. Coming at you a little late, but it's still the season for it. I hope you enjoy!

Laurel wiggled her toes inside her boots as she waited for the fire to warm up her near-frozen extremities. She already felt mostly better now that she’d stripped off her snow-covered gloves, scarf, and coat.

“Here we are.” Ollie’s voice called her attention away from watching the flames as he returned with two whipped cream topped mugs.

“Ooh, thank you.” She reached for her mug with eager hands and sighed as her fingers wrapped around the warm ceramic. “Just what I needed.”

“You’re acting like it wasn’t your idea to spend all day outside,” Oliver remarked as he took the armchair closest to hers.

“We’re at a ski lodge, Ollie. The point is to ski.”

The nicest ski lodge she’d ever been to, as a matter of fact. But nothing short of an Aspen lodge for a Queen — or a Merlyn, for that matter. 

Ollie and Tommy had announced that the three of them were coming up here for New Year’s, an idea which had not pleased her father. Apparently trips with her boyfriend were on his list of things she was not allowed to do. He’d only capitulated once a chaperone had been appointed, never mind that they were all adults now.

Of course, Mr. Queen had dropped them off at the lodge and immediately claimed he had some business to attend to in the nearest city. “I’m sure you kids won’t get into too much trouble in the meantime,” he’d said with a wink.

Oliver and Tommy had exchanged smirks. “No trouble at all, dad,” Ollie had promised.

They’d gotten their things placed in their rooms and taken lunch. The whole meal, Ollie had enthused about the lodge.

“You know, I bet we could open one of these, Tommy. Can you picture it?”

“Yeah, you might want to get that business degree first.”

“You don’t need a business degree,” he’d dismissed. “I could tell you everything a great ski lodge needs right now.”

“Well, you’re both gonna need heavier coats if we’re heading out for some skiing after this,” Laurel had pointed out.

Oliver had blinked at her, and Tommy hadn’t looked much less confused. “What do you mean?”

She’d had to badger him to get out on the slopes with her. Apparently his love of ski lodges extended to the confines of the lodge itself, for the most part. But he’d caved eventually, and they’d even convinced Tommy to join them for a little while. He’d retreated out of the cold long before they had, though.

But she felt braving the weather out there only made this part of the evening more worth it. She was warm again, had delicious cocoa, and her boyfriend’s nose was still all pink and cute.

The main room and the bar were beginning to fill up with people, some already wearing hats or glasses with the new year printed on them in anticipation. She didn’t have any of that, but she knew she could count on a New Year’s kiss and, just maybe, a little bit more. Anticipation of a different sort filled her as she glanced every so often in her boyfriend’s direction.

“Uh-oh, here comes trouble,” said Oliver as they both spotted an in-coming Tommy. He was moving at a pretty fast clip, especially for someone who hated exercise.

“Hey, Ollie, need the room key,” he muttered as he leaned on the back of Oliver’s chair.

“Sure thing.”

“Oh, and I need you to not come back tonight? Kind of trying to close a deal here.” Tommy looked back and grinned at a pretty redhead standing back at the bar, who waved and caused him to give a goofy waggle of his fingers in return.

Laurel rolled her eyes.

Seeing as Oliver was already passing over the keys, he couldn’t really say no, and a part of her doubted he would have anyway. “Good luck,” he told his best friend.

“Yeah, thanks.” Tommy left as quickly as he came, and Oliver turned back to his cocoa with a sigh.

“Well, guess I’m homeless,” he remarked with a light air, glancing at her over the rim of his mug.

She shook her head, grinning. “Save the puppy eyes, Ollie. You can stay with me.”

“You’ve saved me,” he declared. “I’ll have to repay you for that. But I can think of a few things.”

She raised an eyebrow, though inside her nerves were jumping. Were they really going to do this?

They’d fooled around on a mattress before, though usually not without some sort of interruption or needing to set a limit on how far they could go in case they  _ were _ interrupted. But they were on their own here. They could really go all the way.

By some unspoken agreement, they both finished up their cocoa and left the growing party for the rooms upstairs. Laurel took out her key and let them both in, turning on the lights and nearly tripping over Oliver’s suitcase that had unexpectedly appeared in her room.

Oliver reached for an arm to steady her. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just, Tommy,” she said, gesturing to the luggage. “Did he have room service move your things in here?”

“Well, he probably didn’t want to explain to his date that the original plan was to room with a friend. Not sure how he explained away the second bed, though.”

“Knowing him? Probably some joke about the more, the merrier.”

They both laughed, which broke some of the tension. Laurel took toothpaste and her toothbrush out of her bag, motioning for Oliver to follow with his own into the bathroom. It was sort of domestic, going through just that bit of a nighttime ritual together, a little glimpse of the future. Maybe.

She was getting ahead of herself. Laurel left the bathroom and turned off the overhead lights in favor of the bedside lamp before sitting on the bed to untie her boots. She tucked one leg under herself and left the other dangling over the side, waiting for Oliver. He came out soon after and joined her, leaning in for a kiss. There was still the taste of cocoa lingering somewhere in his mouth, mixing with the spearmint of the toothpaste. She kind of loved it.

Before either of them could get too carried away, Oliver pulled back to take off his own boots. Then he was back, kissing her more deeply than before.

Laurel pressed up close to him, fingers threading through his shaggy hair and letting herself get lost in the kiss. The temperature in the room was rising, or maybe it was just them, but she felt feverish with the need to just keep kissing him and touching him.

His hands snuck under her sweater and up her back, fortunately not too cold, before finding the elastic band of her sports bra. And that’s when Laurel remembered.

She broke off the kiss. “Oh , wait!”

“Whazzamatter?”

“I was gonna wear some lingerie. You know, something sexy,” she explained, looking over at her suitcase. “But I forgot to change.”

He snorted. “Save it for next time. You’re fine.” Before she could protest again, he pulled her sweater over her head. “Beautiful, even,” he breathed, eyes glued to her body. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t gotten a peek or two before. But those were usually very quick and furtive occasions. Now he seemed to be taking his time.

She wasn’t sure if her blush was for that or the implication that they’d be doing this more than once. Laurel tucked some of her hair back behind her ear and smiled.

In the next instant, her smile transformed into a gasp as he reached forward and thumbed at one of her nipples poking through the fabric, and she only just held back from smacking at his hand. “Ollie!”

“Couldn’t resist,” he said with a shameless grin. Then he tugged at her bra again. “Can I?”

“Yes.” She lifted her arms obligingly to make it easier to remove.

He reached with both hands to touch her, cupping her breasts and making her shiver at the feeling of his hands on her bare skin. His thumbs went back to teasing her nipples, already hard but somehow becoming more so as she whimpered under the ministrations.

Laurel knew she was at perfect liberty to just allow herself to enjoy whatever Oliver wanted to do; it was simple fact that he was far more the expert than her. But she didn’t just want to be taken by Oliver Queen tonight. She wanted to make love to the love of her life.

So she reached for the hem of his own sweater and forced him to stop for a moment as she took it off him, then took her own opportunity to run her hands over the smooth planes of his chest.

“Find something you like?” He quipped, but there was a quiver to his voice that betrayed his casual facade.

“Hmm, maybe,” she replied.

They explored each other for a bit, taking the time to. They had all night.

Laurel held him as his tongue lapped at the curve of her breast before sucking a nipple into his mouth. She couldn’t hold back a moan at the new sensation. Heat spread through her and a wetness seeped into the lining of her panties. Laurel squirmed a little.

She wasn’t the only one, either. Oliver kept shifting, and when she snuck a hand down into his lap, she could tell why. He was hard. Laurel bit her lip.

This was real. This was happening. She was going to have sex with her boyfriend. She  _ was  _ having sex with her boyfriend.

There was a little thrill at the idea that this alone was arousing to him, but from what she did know, he also had to be getting a little uncomfortable by now. She went for his jeans, but paused.

“Do you have condoms?”

“Course,” he answered, and leaned in to kiss her again.

But Laurel put a hand up over his mouth. “Wait, did you pack condoms because you assumed we were going to have sex?”

He shrugged and kissed her palm instead. “I live in hope. Anyway, sounds like you and your underwear had some ideas.”

“Shut up,” she said and finally undid the zip on his jeans, helping him to pull them down. He kicked them off along with his socks, sighing in relief.

But Laurel only had eyes for the outline of his cock tenting the front of his boxers.

She’d fumbled a bit under the waistband of his jeans before a couple times, never anything more than a little touching. And she had not realized just how  _ big _ he was. Not that she had a comparison. It just seemed big to her eyes.

She pushed aside that bout of worrying for the moment as he returned to kissing her. His hands found her hips this time, and she knew his intentions were now primarily focused lower than her chest.

Laurel got up on her knees for a moment as he undid her jeans and pushed them down, then she had her turn at struggling out of them. They were both down to their underwear now, and it was hard to remember to breathe.

His fingers hooked in the waistband of her panties, and the muscles in her stomach tensed.

Oliver stopped. “Is something wrong?”

She knew she wanted this, just like she knew she wanted it to be him. Now that they’d started, Laurel couldn’t imagine stopping halfway. But...

“I just, um, haven’t done this. Before.” She looked down, her hair falling forward to shield her. “And I know it’s supposed to hurt, and I don’t want that to spoil the mood.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” he soothed, hands smoothing back her hair and cradling her face. “That’s okay. It doesn’t have to hurt. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He left the bed for a moment, and Laurel wrapped her arms around her chest as she watched his bare bum while he dug around in his suitcase. It was a really nice bum, which she’d definitely known before now, but it was good to get a confirmation.

Oliver returned with both the condom and a small tube, which he was rubbing between his palms for some reason.

“Lube?”

“Trust me. It works.” He set the lube aside and reached down to touch her through her underwear. “Even if you are pretty wet already.”

She blushed again, but he shook his head.

“I’m not teasing. Means I’m doing this right.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” she joked, though it still came off a little nervous.

His gaze went soft as he move forward to kiss her yet again. Oliver gently encouraged her to fall back against the pillows as he trailed his lips down her jaw, then her neck, and her chest after that. His hands rubbed up and down her sides as he spent another while lavishing attention to her breasts. She felt like she was sinking into the mattress or floating on a cloud. His mouth and hands moved lower yet, kissing her stomach and easing her legs apart.

They met again at the little bow on the front of her cotton panties, and he looked up to lock eyes with her. Laurel managed to push up onto one elbow and shakily nodded.

He stripped the soaked garment off her, dropping it over the edge of the mattress before returning his gaze to her exposed body. For a moment, Laurel was struck by the fear that maybe he would have wanted her to shave — but then he licked his lips and said in a voice that belonged more to a man than the boy she’d first fallen in love with, “Dinah Laurel Lance.”

She swallowed once. “Find something you like?”

He looked up at her again, and she could hardly see the blue of his irises from the way his pupils had expanded. “Something I love. Can I touch you? I promise it won’t hurt.”

She nodded again. “I want you to.” 

He scooted forward a little and trailed his fingers through the hair on her mound, still wet with her arousal. They played around her folds, and her breath hitched.

He licked his lips again. “Just lie back, Laurel. Try and relax.”

She did so as her reached for the lube and squeezed some out onto his palm. Then he began coating the first three fingers of his right hand in it.

“It shouldn’t be too cold now, but you might feel a little odd,” he warned. Then he pressed one finger to her entrance and slipped between the folds, spreading the gel around before sinking it deeper.

Laurel tried to put a name to the feeling. It wasn’t...bad. And actually as she got more used to it while his other hand moved to her clit, it started feeling better than not bad. Much better.

Though she had to ask as he kept crooking his finger while inside her, “Having trouble?”

He scowled, though it was mostly good-natured. “Not me.” But he paused nonetheless. “Actually, I should get a towel. There might be a little blood, but that’s normal.”

“I know what a hymen is, Ollie. And no, actually. I accidentally broke it bike riding.” 

“Oh.”

She’d been racing Sara and could still remember the brief pain and freaking out about the blood the entire car ride home till they could get her to her mom, who pulled her into the bathroom to explain. Her poor dad, though.

Not something she wanted to think about at the moment.

“Could you keep going?”

He seemed to recall that he still had a finger buried inside her and gave a sheepish start. “Right.”

And only two tries later—

“Ah!” Laurel cried out as he pressed a spot inside her that seemed to light her nerves on fire. “That—”

“Good, right?” He checked, grinning.

“Yes. Very. Please, please do that again — ohhhh!”

“Geez, Laurel, the walls are thick, but maybe  _ try _ to keep it down?” Oliver was still smiling, so she didn’t think he was that bothered by it. In fact, she suspected the opposite.

Her back arched as he continued to play with that spot, and she almost didn’t notice when he added a second finger that her walls stretched to accommodate. The slide of them as they touched the most intimate places inside her was a pleasurable burn, and that only increased as yet another finger joined in.

Laurel was a moaning mess, clutching at the sheets beneath her as she climbed higher and higher to some unknown peak.

“God, you are too much,” Oliver murmured above her. “Gorgeous.”

She fell over the edge with no warning. “Ollie, Ollie!”

Laurel was lost in ecstasy for a time she couldn’t put a length to. Ollie’s lips on her cheek brought her back to awareness.

“You did it.”

“Oh, God.” Her head turned to the side as she gasped in air. “Was that it?”

An incredulous laugh left him. “Was that it?”

“No, I meant—” she sat up and pushed her hair back from her sweat-covered forehead. “We still haven’t. You.”

“Yeah, well I wanted to make sure you were gonna feel good. I can wait a little longer.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, but if anything when she looked he seemed even harder than before.

“Can I?”

He moved forward to let her pull down his boxers, and his cock sprang free, standing up completely. There was even a little moisture leaking from the tip.

Laurel was way out of her depth, but she reached hesitantly to touch the head. Oliver sucked in a breath.

“Should I use the lube?”

“Just a little. I like it a bit rougher.”

Laurel filed that away for future reference and took the small tube. She squirted just a dollop onto her palm and moved to wrap her hand around his length. He was hot and harder than she’d ever felt him before, and he jumped a little in her hold.

“That’s it. Oh yeah,” Oliver groaned with his eyes shut as she began to move her hand back and forth along the length of him. She wasn’t sure how good it could be, considering she wasn’t using much technique. But he seemed to enjoy it nonetheless. And there was something about helping to get him off that reignited that heat within herself. Laurel crossed her legs and pressed them together, trying to relieve an ache that seemed insatiable now that it had been awoken.

“Stop. Laurel, stop,” Oliver urged, and she let go.

“Was that bad?”

“Are you kidding? No, it was good. I just didn’t want to come yet.” He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Pretty sure you still need me.”

She didn’t know how he managed to turn her on with so effortlessly, but her mouth was running dry and all she could do was nod. Oliver went for the packet holding the condom and ripped it open, rolling it over himself with practiced ease.

Laurel had to thank her luck for a moment that he wasn’t one of those men who claimed they couldn’t use one. She’d heard the stories, anyway. But it was comforting to know she could trust him.

He slathered a healthy amount of the lube over the entire condom, then nudged her legs apart as he moved up between them.

“You ready?”

Laurel lowered herself back down. “Yeah.”

The press of latex against her core was yet another new experience, and even though she’d gotten used to the width of Ollie’s fingers, this was definitely more, somehow. Hot and throbbing and  _ him. _

He was inside her. They were closer than they’d ever been before, as physically connected as two people could be. That was enough to forgive any slight discomfort.

Oliver rubbed her clit in what she suspected was an effort to distract and relax her from the penetration. She wished she could reach more than just his arms or shoulders, and she strained to grasp his face and pull him down to kiss.

He shifted inside her from the movement, and Laurel gasped.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. That feels better. I- I need you to start moving, Ollie. Please.”

He did, keeping the movement of his hips slow and shallow at first. It looked like that was with considerable restraint on his part, judging by how he’d gritted his teeth together.

Laurel bent her legs and pressed her feet to the mattress. It took her a couple tries to find the rhythm he was setting, but then she was meeting his thrusts with her own tentative ones, taking him even deeper inside her. They both moaned, and then Laurel was kissing him again.

“More, Ollie, more!”

“God, you’re perfect. You’re more perfect than anybody,  _ Laurel _ —”

That climbing sensation was building back up, and she hoped he was reaching it, too. His pace was turning erratic, and he held onto her hips with a tight grip as he thrust over and over. Laurel dug her fingers into his hair and held on for dear life. There were fireworks going off in her mind.

She crashed over that high a second time that night, crying out his name.

He thrust again and she felt a shudder go through him as he came, filling the condom. Ollie turned his face into her hair, murmuring her name again and again like it was some sort of prayer. They stilled and lay in that sweaty embrace for a time. For some reason she felt like crying; Laurel wasn’t sure she knew how to handle being this happy.

Eventually, Oliver pulled out of her and removed the condom, tossing it into the trash. He stretched out along his side next to her and stroked her hair.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

It felt silly to be acting so shy after what they’d just done together, but she didn’t care.

A shrill whistle and explosion from outside made her realize those fireworks she’d been hearing in her head were actually real. Laurel turned to look at the bedside clock. It was five past midnight.

“Wow. I fucked you into next year.”

Laurel frowned back at him. “That was _not_ fucking.”

“No,” he agreed with a wide smile. “It wasn’t.” He reached to flick off the lamp and pulled the covers up over them, and she was glad for the additional warmth as her body began to cool.

Then he leaned forward to kiss her sweetly on the lips. “Happy New Year, Laurel.”

She cuddled up to his side, totally content. “Happy New Year, Ollie.”

—-

She took her time waking up that morning. For one thing, it had been a late night.

But mostly she just didn’t want to leave this moment.

Oliver was a heavier sleeper than her, but eventually the sun’s rays reached his face and caused him to blink his eyes open. They’d forgotten the curtains the night before.

“Well, this is one way to start the new year right,” he remarked in a voice still groggy with sleep.

Laurel groaned and dropped her head onto her chest. “Will you  _ please _ stop with the cheesy New Year’s jokes?”

“Nope. I like ‘em.” His arm slid around her waist, and he rolled them over so he was on top, their naked bodies pressed together. “You like ‘em, too.”

Laurel couldn’t stop a giggle, even as she said, “No, I don’t.”

He kissed her, slow and bordering on obscene with the amount of tongue involved. She loved it.

“Let’s order room service. We’ll stay in bed all day, learn a bit more about each other.”

“As nice as that sounds, I still wanna ski again before we leave,” she replied.

“We’ve got two more days. We can ski tomorrow.”

Laurel pushed him over and got in his face. “Is that a promise, Ollie?”

“Cross my heart.”

“Okay, But no wriggling out of it.” She kissed his nose, just because, then nuzzled the fuzz growing on his cheeks and chin. It actually didn’t look that bad.

The sound of her ringtone going off cut through the moment, and Laurel was tempted to ignore it. But better to get any interruptions over with.

She snagged it off the bedside table. “Hello?”

“Hey,” said her sister.

Laurel sat up and out of Oliver’s arms, which earned a pitiful groan from him. “Hey, what’s up?”

“You never answered my New Years text.”

“I was sleeping,” she lied.

Sara snorted. “Of course. Do you always have to be so boring?”

“Do you always have to be so annoying?” She fired back.

“If she’s being annoying then get rid of her,” Oliver suggested.

Laurel motioned at him to be quiet, but the damage was done.

“Is that Ollie?” Sara’s voice took on a scandalous tone. “What’s he doing in your room?”

“None of your business.”

“Who’s in whose room?” Laurel paled at the sound of her father’s voice, distant on the other end but distinct nevertheless. “Is that your sister?”

“Oops,” Sara said.

“If that’s Queen in there, I’m gonna kill him!”

“There’s two beds, and it’s none of your business!” Laurel lied again, snapping the phone shut. She flipped it back open and turned it off for good measure.

“I’m in trouble,” said Oliver.

“Maybe. Yes.” Laurel didn’t look at him. God, why was her family so embarrassing?

So she was surprised when he rose up and wrapped his arms back around her, pulling her back down onto the bed.

“Ollie!”

“If I’m gonna die, I’m gonna make it count.”

Her laughter made it hard for him to kiss her, but they managed.


End file.
